The Trials of Marching Band
by Yumi Kei
Summary: He knew it. Roxas knew Axel couldn't possibly be any different than the other mindless male drones of the high school- just wanting to break girl's hearts. But when Axel harshly dumps Roxas' best friend, Roxas decides he's had enough, and plots revenge. ON HIATUS! Might discontinue...
1. Roxas: The Melancholy Dane

(AN): In English class, our teacher had assigned us to read _Speak_, by Laurie Halse Anderson. I read that ridiculous book when I was 15, and I hated it then. Now we're reading it to learn English? Eh? The darn book is so depressing, it's killing me to read it and answer questions about it.

Well, that is how this story was born, out of my aggravation. So don't be too shocked at semi-emo Roxas… he's a good kid, really. I would never make him too lonely.

Disclaimer: No, for your amusement. I also do not own World Net Daily… yes, that is a real news website. It's conservative, but they are very real, and they don't sugar coat everything like other news vendors.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I woke up this morning feeling, well, tired. It's a Monday, and I forgot about that Sunday night, when I crawled into bed around 11, and actually fell asleep at about 12:30 in the morning.

The alarm on my watch made me roll over so fast I almost slammed my face on the head board. I groped around like a drunken man, feeling for my watch, my fingers and knuckles hitting the wall of books. After thirty seconds of obnoxious _beeeeep beep_, _beeeeep beep_, I finally wrapped my fingers around my green watch and hitting the Start and Reset buttons at the same time to turn the bloody thing off.

I flopped back into my pillow, face first, shutting my eyes.

I figured I could just rest there for a few more minutes, let my body realize that it was time to get up, without _actually_ getting up.

I woke up again with the sound of my mother's voice scaring the shit out of me.

"Roxas! It's 7:00! Get up!"

7:00. Translation: the bus would arrive in fifteen minutes.

I groaned as loudly and repulsively as I could before I sat up, hanging my head like a dead weight.

_Good, now stand. _Resting my hands on my knees, I propelled myself upward, in the slowest way possible. Mother was still at the door, she does that: _wait_.

"I'm up," my voice slurred, I rubbed a crusty out of my eye. She left, pausing to turn my light switch up. I twitched against the light, almost falling back on the bed.

Breakfast was out of the question.

I took a ten minute shower, scrubbing my hair with shampoo and grinding my nails against my scalp. I turned the hot water off for the last second to really get me awake.

I ran out the door with my hair dripping wet, and my shirt sticking to me.

I forgot my mp3 player.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

School seems to be endless. Walking into the building, you can't help but say to yourself, _seven more months_, even though you'll just have to endure another year soon after.

Eleventh grade, we are entering into a time of maturity, thus sayith the teachers.

I glare at the crudely drawn penis on my pale locker.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Roxas!" I turn my head, but I do not stop walking. Mrs. Holland is a bitch when you're late to her class. Namine is jogging up to me, ignoring the offensive stares of students who she brushes by.

She makes it to my side, walking in time with me.

"Hey, I was wondering if you could come hang out at my house after school, if you're not too busy," she tagged on, swinging the arm that held a text book.

"Perhaps," I muse, turning the ring on my finger around and around.

"Geez Roxas, your hair is a mess, here- stop," Namine takes me by the shoulders to ground my feet to the floor. I groan, but that is my only protest. I let her rake her fingers through my hair, pushing it this way and that, as well as using them as a comb. One of her fingers gets snagged on a knot and I flinch.

"Enough, Nami," I motion to grab her wrist, but she just slaps my hand away.

"Neh, it'll have to do." She brings her hands down, rubbing them against her blue skirt.

"I'm glad," I murmur. She smiles.

"I'll see you later, K?" Namine angles her body to take off in the opposite direction.

"Yeah," I nod for her benefit.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Doodles.

Doodles on the margin, doodles for annotations, and doodles because my hand won't stop moving.

I let my mind wander as the History teacher drones on. Daydreaming is something I do regularly. Yuna's piercing voice intrudes my thoughts and I scowl in her direction. She has just corrected the teacher. The teacher pauses (let's call him A and Yuna B), taking a moment to hear her out.

A shakes his head, explaining that he has a method to his madness.

B shakes_ her_ head, this pisses me off. Why can't B just deal with it, and accept that school itself is a lie?

B follows up with the stupid head shake stretching a "Nooo."

Oh, please.

A student: C, interrupts B's "Nooo" with a "shut the hell up." B turns in her seat, sticking an index finger in the air.

Let me guess; _hold on, I'll be right with you_?

A sighs, knowing that B will not give up; she never gives up, and turning back to the board without a word. B smirks, thinking she's won. Great, another ego point added to her fat head.

From now on, she will be 'O', it will match her over inflated ego.

I wish to go home.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

My last class of the day is band.

I don't know why I'm in it.

I have been taking this ridiculous class since 6th grade.

I play the clarinet… I am the only male in the section.

There are only two people whom I consider friendly in band.

Kairi, who plays the flute. She's my brother's girlfriend. She has pretty red hair and lovely blue eyes. Kairi is really social and knows everything that I care about in school, like due dates and days off. But she isn't a prep about it. She's very real, very strict about moral stuff. I think she's cool.

And Demyx, who plays the electric guitar. He just moved here last year and came into band with his awesome white guitar slung over his back, claiming that not having a guitar in a school band was just retarded. He has short, spiky blond hair, with this mullet/mohawk on top… I dunno. He has a natural charisma that draws people in… it's not a good thing. Demyx is interesting in a way that makes you want to study him, like a specimen. What will he do if I do or say this? Besides, he just puts me in a good mood when I'm feeling like crap.

"Yo, Roxas! Lovin' the 'do, how'd you get your hair to flip that way?" Demyx greeted me at the door, ruffling my hair.

See what I mean?

"Absolutely nothing," I grinned up at him. This is as close to a friend Demyx gets, but that's about it. I visited his house once, to work on a school project together. We don't have anything in common. At least he can make me smile.

"I should try that some time," he ran a hand through his own hair. I grinned, shaking my head.

Class didn't start until ten minutes later, all the horns blaring and annoying chatter was giving me a head ache.

"Alright," Mr. X (I heard from someone that his real name is Xemnas, I've gone to this school for three years and I'm still not sure) stood on the podium, his long silver hair was tied back. "B flat scale," he announced. I brought my reed out of my mouth to stick it on the mouth piece of the clarinet, holding it in place with the ligature.

Just thirty five more minutes.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I walked to my bus alone. My 'friends' and I used to stand in a group of four, and just chatted before we went our separate ways. We tried to in the beginning of the year, but for some reason, we just don't 'hang out' anymore.

Olette is with Pence, and they always seem to be wrapped up in themselves. Hayner is turning into a freak, and I'm a little concerned for him.

I take a glance at the usual spot on the front lawn, now vacant, and sigh.

Life could be better.

I ignore the kids that my laptop smacks knees with and trudge to my seat with a deliberate scowl on my face. I reach into my backpack for my mp3 player, when I remember that I left it home. I groan, grabbing the book we're reading for English, which is actually not a book at all: _Hamlet_. I like the character Hamlet; he's a pretty odd dude.

I didn't notice Sora getting on the bus later, until he popped his head up from the seat in front of me, smiling.

"Hey Roxas. How was school?" his smiled widened when I frowned.

"Uneventful," I sighed, slouching, pressing my knees against the back of Sora's blue seat.

He noticed _Hamlet_ in my hands.

"Oh yeah, how far do we have to read tonight?" He swung an elbow over the side, rocking back and forth slightly as the bus moved forward.

I shrugged. "I don't keep track."

"Well, what part are you on?"

I rolled my eyes. "Hamlet is about to rape his mother."

Sora's eyes bulged out. "What? Where's that?" He disappeared from view, probably fishing in his own backpack for the book.

"It's about halfway through," I call out, "and he's not really raping her, but it's something like that," I mumble the last part, sticking my nose back in the book. I wasn't going to tell Sora this, but I had already finished the darn thing. Reading comes easy to me, even if it is Shakespearian English.

After a few minutes, I hear Sora yell, "Argh! I can't read this."

I laugh to myself, closing the book and sticking it back in my bag, to stare out the window.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Every day, rather, every weekday is the same. Walk in through the door, get attacked by my dog, kick my shoes off, throw my bag on the couch, and wait until mom has asked me,

"How was school today?"

Sora says, "Fine," in a chipper voice. I envy his good moods.

I say either, "whatever," or "neh," in an I-Could-Care-Less voice.

I turn the corner from the living room to go upstairs to my room. I strip off my coat, holding it in one hand, noticing a foreign black ball of fluff on my bed.

Oh yeah, it's Boots, mom's cat.

"Beat it, fluffy," I throw my coat over her.

I hear tapping and scratching against hard wood flooring, and turn to see Zack, my Rottweiler/Labrador pup, slide past the arch to my room. I smile, shaking my head. He finally manages to make it inside my room, jumping on me, yet again.

"Get down," I grab him by the ears, pushing him off me.

My coat leaps off the bed and scurries out the door. Zack chases it. I contemplate for a moment if I should retrieve my jacket. Sighing, I stride out the door, following the sounds of cat hissing and claws against polished wood.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I bang my head against my keyboard, perhaps trying to beat the answers out of my head. Colleges around here are now having their students turn in their papers digitally. So, naturally, a few of our teachers have picked up on this.

But we are not college students! I grumble as I begin to type random nonsense.

I hear someone enter my room. From the light foot steps, I guess that it is Sora.

"Roxas…" Bingo.

"Hm?" I don't turn my head.

"Can I borrow your PS2?"

"Why?"

"'Cause Kairi is coming over." Usually that explains everything.

"Whatever," I wave a hand in the air, listening as Sora unplugs things.

When he's gone, I give up on my homework, logging on the internet and going to my favorite news site, World Net Daily.

I scan the headlines, one pops up at me:

_A Woman Falls to her Death in a Mall, and Lands on a Shopper_

I don't click on it; the title alone is enough to amuse me.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

odd little filler first chapter to introduce you all to our hero :)

yeah, I didn't want to put this at first... but I really don't know WHY i'm posting this, when I should be finishing my other MULTI CHAPTER KH fic -avoids flying objects- but....


	2. Blind man for a watch dog

(AN): You know who I haven't listened to in _forever_? Rob Thomas. He's a lyrics genius, well, not the best of course, but certainly up there. And yes, Rob Thomas, not Matchbox Twenty. I listened to his first solo album whilst writing the first part of this chapter, _Something To Be_.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I have a new found appreciation for the janitor, as I look upon my locker the next day.

Genital-free. Ah, simple deeds that make my lips curve upward.

Usually I don't notice the people that pass me; mostly because they could care less about who this short blonde kid is. And I didn't notice him, not really. All I saw was a flash of red in my peripheral vision and it caught my attention. I noticed it caught the attention of a few other on lookers as well. I quickly turned away after that, not wanting to take part in the gawking crowd.

I slung my backpack off my shoulder, retrieving my books and stuffing them into my locker as well as hanging my pack on a hook. I went back in to grab my two-subject notebook and a pencil that was about to roll off the top shelf. I left the ear buds in my ears until the first bell rang.

I share Study Hall with Namine, we only have two classes together and it makes me sad that we can't communicate too well. Oops, just forgot, she wanted me to come to her house yesterday. Dang, I'm really pathetic.

I took a seat next to her, setting my notebook on top of the desk. Mulling over if I should turn my mp3 player back on.

Soon Namine interrupted my thoughts. "Hey, Roxas." She smiles. I can grantee you, even before the teachers, Namine will still somehow be the first person who smiles at me in school. Her brows rise up in concern.

"You alright?" She tapped her index finger on my hand.

"Oh, yeah," I chuckled stupidly, suddenly realizing that I was staring at her longer than necessary. "Just thinking I guess." I added lamely.

"I'm sorry, I was going to call you yesterday but I seemed to have misplaced your phone number," Namine rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Could you remind me what it is again?"

I nodded, opening my notebook to scribble down my number in the corner of a page, ripping it off and handing it to her.

"Thanks," she took a glance at it before taking her own pen and writing "Roxas" in small words on the back, I noticed.

"I'm sorry I didn't call _you_, Nami. What did you want me over for?"

She shrugged, "I just wanted some company. My parents were out and I hate being in the house alone." She bent over to take out a textbook from under the desk, opening it and flipping through it until a sheet of notebook paper popped out of the crevasse of pages.

Strange, I thought teenagers loved it when they got time off from their family. I certainly did, and that's all I like to compare myself to the adolescents of today with. I hope I don't sound inflated, but seriously, why do teenagers, and I've seen some adults too, go waste their lives doing stupid stuff like bar hoping and cuss just everyone else is doing it? I hate it when kids cuss and they just _can't do it_. It sounds so fake. Can't people just pick up a book and learn some proper vocabulary?

Whoops, didn't mean to go on a monologue there.

"Sorry I couldn't be there to share in the loneliness," I tried to make a joke, but I'm pretty bad at humor.

Namine shook her head, gazing up at me under her pretty lashes. "The purpose of the invite, Roxas, was to kill the loneliness, not share it," she grinned, I smiled a small smile, turning to snag my mp3 player out of my pocket and turning it on.

Rob Thomas's _All that I am_ silently played in my ear. I turned the repeat on and proceeded to doodle in my notebook for the next forty minutes.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Walking down the hall, I thought I saw a familiar red glint in front of me. I raised my eyes and found that the red was hair. Insanely spiked out _red_ hair that sat atop a head that looked too photoshopped to belong in the real world. I squinted, shaking my head slightly at how he towered over everyone else. I suppose he was a new student. I mean, I see a lot of random people I don't recognize during school hours, when indeed they had been going for the same about of time I had. I looked back in front of me, averting my eyes from everyone else, like always.

I may be criticizing the new kid, if that is the reason why I can't seem to place him in my vacant memory databases, but I do believe he intentionally shoved my shoulder when he passed me, causing me to drop my history book and my overly doodled on notebook. I ignored the anger rising up in my throat like bile and bent down to retrieve my things. He was there.

"Sorry 'bout that." I was startled that he was actually helping me gather my few things and even apologizing. He picked up my notebook, which was furthest from me, and placed it in my arms, on top of my textbook.

"Oh, no, it's okay. I wasn't watching where I was going," I blinked, narrowing my brow as I stood. He followed suit.

"Alright," he grinned and I was suddenly suspicious of this man.

"Gotta name, blondie?" I began to walk away, feeling him at my side.

"Yeah, it's Roxas. You call me 'blondie' again and I'll remove that thing on your head you call hair."

"Down boy," he used his hands as emphasis, I groaned silently. "And who says I call this hair? It just may be a hideous growth," he ran a hand through the fiery augmentation.

I remained silent. Almost to class.

Once at my class room door, I turned around to tell him off, but he was gone. I blinked, peering down the hall in both directions. Geez, he didn't even say "bye," or anything.

The English teacher is crazy. I like her. She's really small and young, not quite fresh out of college, but I'd guess in her mid-twenties. I take my seat next to this girl named Rikku. I can hear an annoying chipmunk squeak coming out of her ear bud. I take out my vocab book and worksheet for the day. Synonyms for corpulent: fat, fleshy, rotund. Used in a sentence: Yuna's butt was looking rather corpulent today.

I stick an ear bud in my ear, too. The shuffle is on, and _Shut Up and Drive_ by Rihanna buzzes in my ear. I wince, pushing the next button. When was the last time I cleaned this out?

As I walk down the hall (or is it 'up the hall'?) I notice Demyx at his locker. He has his cell phone out in front of his stomach, obviously texting. I walk up to him, swapping my books to the other arm.

"Hey Deymx," I poke his shoulder.

He looks up briefly, smiles and replies, "Hey yourself."

I open my mouth to say more, but close it. Demyx is obviously talking to someone else; I can't just interrupt.

So I nod, shifting to walk around him.

That wasn't awkward at all. I sigh at the silence that follows.

School is just a place with controlled education. Learning should not have a time limit… maybe I'll drop out.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I arrive to band early, which I usually try desperately hard not to do. I snag a fold-out chair and music stand, marking them by draping my jacket over the chair and placing my mp3 player on the stand. The kids here wont steal these material items… they will steal the chair or music stand. Our school is on low budget, so these things are scarce. It is first come first serve with the chairs and stands, or else you'll just have to stand and/or share.

I walked lazily to the cubby and yanked out my clarinet and music folder and had a seat on the cold metal chair, dropping the folder on the stand. After I opened my case, the first thing I grab is my reed, sticking it in my mouth and sucking on it while I put together my clarinet.

As I was tightening the reed on with the ligature, I felt someone behind me, staring over my shoulder.

"Yo." That voice sounded familiar.

I turned my head, resisting the urge to mumble "Figures…"

It was that guy in the hall, with the hair. What was his name again? Oh yeah, he didn't _tell_ me. I gave him my name, he hadn't told me his.

"Hello," I reply clearly, turning back to readjust the wet reed.

Maybe he was thinking of something else to say, but he just stood there for a while longer, making me feel entirely awkward. I hate it when people observe me. I stopped fumbling with my clarinet to turn around and at least try to make conversation.

"What are you doing here?" wow, if that didn't sound like the nicest interpretation of "Get the hell out of my sight," I don't know what is.

He shrugged, a small grin beginning to form on his lips.

"Here to learn some music _crap_ that my mom said would work good on my artistic muse… although I don't think I have one," he shrugged again. I noticed that he was empty handed; no instrument.

"What do you play?" Good start, casual conversation.

"Hmm," he ran his hand through his spiky hair in thought. I was amazing that his fingers went all the way through without getting snagged on a knot or bubble of gel… like mine does.

"Sill trying to figure that out," he nodded. "Maybe the drums or something easy."

"The drums really aren't as easy as people think. You pretty much control the whole band; you control the beat and if you screw up, everyone hates you," I don't know where I'm going with this…

The red head made a sarcastic look, I suddenly felt like a moron.

"Yeah…" I mumble, bringing my head down to watch my hand finger invisible notes on the clarinet keys.

"Okaaay," I heard the shift of his fabric as he must've shifted his weight to one leg.

The teacher made himself known by parading into the room with folders in each arm and paper with music notes on them flying out of them. Mr. X plopped them down on his podium with an over exaggerated huff.

Ah great, more music.

"Oh yeah well… hey! My name is Axel, forgot to mention. Commit it to memory."

_Okaaaay._

"Whatever," I went with instead. Axel flashed a brief smile before running up to the instructor. I opened up my folder and fished for todays arrangements. Rather than make a ruckus by sight reading or joining in with the random madness of sound that was already making my ears bleed, I opted to slouch in my chair and observe my fellow class mates.

Kairi was chatting with a group of girls, whom I recognized as Selphie, a sophomore, Yuffie, a senior, and this brunette chick who I can't seem to pull out a name for, but I know she's a senior. I sigh, watching Kairi's facial expressions play out. Ecstatic, shocked ("no way, for real?"), dreamy, and finally acceptance. She notices me staring, and smiles. I smile back, but she doesn't catch it. I turn my attention back to Axel. He's just finished a discussion with Mr. X and walks by my stand, taking hold and tilting it slightly to make more room for himself through the throng of students.

"S'cuse me Roxie." He winks at me. My jaw drops.

I cautiously watch as he scans the room quickly, settling in Demyx's direction. He struts (yes, struts) over to the unknowing guitarist, and flicks him on the forehead. I turn back, waiting once again for class to start.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Have you met Axel yet?" Demyx caught me after band, I just put my clarinet and folder away.

I decide to play dumb.

"The new guy?"

"Yeah, with the insane hair. He seriously looks like a rock star, doesn't he?" After zipping up his guitar into the case, Demyx heaves it up on top of the shelves of occupied boxes.

I shrug. I don't like giving people I hardly know compliments. "He looks more like a child abductor... what with those stupid tattoos under his eyes that make him look like a clown."

"Whats this I hear?" I unconsciously groan at the already too familiar voice.

"Talkin' about me behind my back? Better be something good. Do share, Roxie." I had continued heading for the door, with Axel blabbering behind me, but he grabbed my shoulder, swinging me around to face him.

"What's your problem?" I spat. I don't not like being man handled.

Demyx swayed uneasily back and forth on his heels, hands innocently behind his back, avoiding eye contact with me.

"What were you saying about me?" Axel asked simply, waving an arm in a gesture that meant it should be obvious.

I turned around and started walking again, Axel and Demyx followed, the latter on my right side, Axel taking the left. I rolled my eyes.

"I was saying how you look like a child abductor. Do you know how stupid you look with those tattoos? If that is what they are." If they were tattoos, I didn't think they looked stupid at all, it must've been really painful to get them, and they did look kinda cool on him... maybe if he wore a big red nose and giant matching shoes, I could sell him to the circus.

"You're just saying that because you're jealous of my insanely good looks. And yes, the tattoos are real. It was a bet- really stupid- but I've learned to like 'em." He traced a finger over the black mark delicately.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Once we were outside, Demyx said bye to Axel and I. We had our packs and were ready to leave.

"What grade are you in, Roxas?" I'm so glad he didn't call me that 'nic name.'

"I'm a junior, you?" We were walking in the same direction, my bus was at the end of the line.

"Senior. I thought you may, since I haven't seen you in any of my classes." He shrugged his shoulders, swinging his arms like a monkey as he walked, just a few books in his hands, no back pack.

"Where is your bus? Or do you have a car?" We had reached the end and I was about to board my bus.

"Car," he inclined his head in the direction of the student parking lot. "Can't stand bus rides."

I nodded my head, deciding that asking why could be saved for later.

"Well, gotta fly Roxas, C'ya tomorrow?" He smiled, exposing ultra white teeth.

"Duh tomorrow," I felt my cheeks uplift by themselves.

Axel turned on his heel. "Later then."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

am I cruisin' for a bruisin' with all these first person narratives lately? You tell me


End file.
